The Three Paths of Jack Donaghy
by Mindy35
Summary: Jack/Avery, Jack/Nancy, Jack/Liz, Liz/Carol. He will always wonder about that unopened door.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Three Paths of Jack Donaghy

Author: Mindy

Rating: T, sexual references

Disclaimer: Characters are property Tina Fey, NBC et al. Lyrics by Ben Lee are borrowed without permission. No money made etc.

Spoilers: Up until and including "I Do Do".

Pairings: Jack/Avery, Jack/Nancy, Jack/Liz, Liz/Carol

Summary: He'll always wonder about that unopened door.

I.

_You kissed me slow, it happened way too fast_

_I told myself there's no way it would last_

_Is this how love's supposed to feel?_

_Is this now love's supposed to feel?_

Their wedding day was the happiest day of his life. The most extravagant, the most exciting day he'd ever experienced. Avery arranged everything to perfection. Following his spontaneous proposal, she'd lost no time hiring the best wedding planner in the city to get the job done right and on time. She insisted they schedule the event before she started to lose her "incredibly taut figure" and Jack could not have agreed more. After all his anguish and indecision, he couldn't wait to be married to Avery. He couldn't wait to start their new life together. Their wedding was held in New York's ornate Gotham Hall with over five hundred guests attending, including friends, family, distinguished colleagues, society must-haves and the media. The honeymoon would have to be postponed to a later yet-to-be-determined date due to career commitments they both had. But Jack was relieved to have found a woman who not only understood but also shared his unwavering passion for his business pursuits.

They settled into their domestic routine quickly and easily. In some ways, not much had changed for him. Avery moved into his place just prior to the wedding. Each morning, she woke to go for a run or to the gym. Good weather or bad, she was out there, keeping it tight as Lemon would say. Even when she started to show, Avery was still up long before he was, committed to keeping herself camera-ready and at the top of her game. She generally came through the door as he was reading the paper and finishing his breakfast. Sometimes he was done before she even started. But sometimes she would sit at the end of the long table and eat a grapefruit while they discussed any overnight changes to the stock market. Then they took a car into work, sharing some time together, although often he would be on the phone, or they both would be, or Avery would be proofing some drafts, jotting notes in the margins and holding up a finger until it was okay for him to talk.

Work stayed pretty much the same for both of them. The same shenanigans tended to interrupt his ordered days, prompting Jack to head down to the sixth floor where Lemon would be huffing and puffing and rambling about something or someone. He always knew how to solve her problems and continued to effortlessly do so. In the evenings, he didn't stick around as much. He didn't stay to watch _TGS_ from the studio floor or have a drink with a disgruntled and lonely colleague. He generally headed home, with some work to complete. He wasn't sure why as Avery was never there. The apartment was always empty when he returned, except for the help. But it gave him time to finish off his own work before settling in with a drink to watch Avery's show. She preferred not to be distracted by his presence on set. But Jack watched religiously, shaking his head and marvelling at his wife's acid tongue, mental agility and sex appeal.

He was usually in bed before she returned from the studio, either hyped up or irked by the day's show. Generally the former. As she undressed and walked naked into the shower, she would ask Jack what he thought of this guest or if he caught that comeback or whether her hair looked too shiny or her lipstick too slutty. After this debrief and her nightly, extensive beauty routine, horny from the pregnancy hormones, she would crawl into bed, ready for sex. Mostly Jack would eagerly oblige, though he did fall asleep on her more than once. On these occasions, Avery just slapped his shoulder, got on top and rode him until she was satisfied. Then she'd turn out the light and sleep like the dead. The bigger and rounder she got, the more this became their fall back position. Which Jack did not mind. But Avery disliked him stroking her tummy as he pumped inside her or staring at her huge breasts as she rocked with orgasm. It broke the mood for her. She preferred to ignore her pregnant state when they were intimate. In fact, the only time she seemed to truly relish her pregnancy was in public.

Nine months and three weeks after they met, Avery gave birth to a little boy. They'd known it was going to be a boy. Neither had wanted to be surprised. They both preferred to have all available facts, they both wanted to be fully prepared for their new arrival. And there was certainly never any question on the name. John Francis Junior. Johnny, for now. The birth was smooth and simple. Avery had a scheduled C-section and was back at work the following week. Jack had to admire her endless verve and career commitment. And objectively, he was convinced she'd provided him with the most handsome baby boy he'd ever seen in his life. Johnny had his thick dark hair, bright blue eyes and Avery's perfectly round mouth. They hired a highly recommended foreign nanny named Natasha who occasionally brought Johnny to visit his parents at their workplace. The first time she did, Jack beamed proudly as all the women in the writer's room gathered around, cooing over his newborn son. All the men congregated in the kitchen area, watching from afar. "Nice rugrat," was Frank's comment. To which they all nodded and agreed.

After they'd all had a turn with him, finishing with Lemon, Natasha stayed to be chatted up by whoever of the men dared approach her while he and Lemon took the elevator up to his office, his son cradled in her arms. He talked the whole way up, while she stayed silent at his side. It was only when he was sitting at his desk that he looked over at her, perched on the edge of his sofa with Johnny that he realized how uncharacteristically quiet she'd become. She didn't even notice him stop talking mid-sentence. She just rocked back and forth very gently, her eyes on the baby's face. Jack couldn't read her expression, it was such an odd, contradictory mix. It was as though she was simultaneously the happiest and saddest he'd ever seen her.

When Johnny was six months old, Avery announced that it was time for them to try for another child. The first one had been unplanned and inconvenient so she wanted the second one to be on her terms. Or their terms. Also, she wanted a little girl and would prefer all her child bearing to be out of the way before she turned thirty-five. So they started having twice as much sex. She would shake him awake each morning so he could start the day by hopefully impregnating her. Avery would then lie on her back, feet in the air for several minutes while Jack dropped back off to sleep. Then she would go for her customary morning run. Each night, after she came home and before they both fell asleep, they would try again. It was simple sex, not unenjoyable, but it was more like they were working to a schedule, working towards a goal. Occasionally, it felt like a chore to Jack or it created tension and tiredness in their marriage bed. But Avery insisted the results would be worth it. She was a woman on a mission, complete with a detailed action plan, complex graphs of all sorts and plenty of research to back her up whenever her husband might question what they were doing and why.

That's when his fantasises about Natasha the Norwegian Nanny began. Not that he ever acted on such desires or would even consider cheating on his wife. Jack just craved a little simplicity, a little release, a little pure pleasure. Sex was usually his refuge and release. But with Avery, it had become stressful, passionless. It was simply a stage they were going through though, he was sure of it. Avery told him that everything would be better once she got pregnant, after the baby was born and they could get back to normal. And he believed her. But she was not too pleased when she returned from her daily run early one morning to find him beating off in the shower, panting another woman's name. She told him crossly that he was wasting valuable sperm, which he did not have infinite reserves of at his age. Then she didn't talk to him for three whole days. Not even when she made him hard then made him penetrate her until he ejaculated.

Soon after, an opportunity arose to visit the Kabletown affiliates in Tokyo and Jack volunteered to go. Privately, he was relieved. After being alone for so many years, marriage was much harder than he remembered. He needed a little time to himself, a little time to gather his thoughts. And he wanted to get one of those cute kimonos for Johnny. While in Japan, he also picked up a Japanese language edition of Lemon's newest contribution to the world of women's self-help, a follow-up to her past success, ingeniously entitled _Man Still No Good_. Leafing through the pages gave him a good laugh on the trip home and he was pleased that he'd been able to help her find her feet in a new market. Particularly as _TGS_ was close to cancellation. Kabletown was not a fan of hit and miss comedy, nor of anything that took money to produce but didn't generate much return revenue.

When Jack returned from his Tokyo trip it was as though Avery had known he'd secretly wanted to get away, that he'd put off returning for as long as he could. All sex ceased, whether it was for the purposes of procreation or pleasure. She'd also hired a new nanny in his absence, a young man named Joseph who adored Johnny and vice versa. Jack didn't care about this change. It was better for him not to feel tempted. And he was hardly in the mood to fantasise anyway. Especially as, since returning to their routine he started to see the gaps in his and Avery's life together. The things that before used to charm him about their side-by-side existence now bothered him deeply. Like how they never woke up together or ate breakfast together, or even liked the same breakfast. They never felt the need to communicate during the day, there were no quick phone calls to murmur 'I love you', no stolen long lunches or spontaneous office trysts. Avery never once minded when work took precedence over their marriage or family. But Jack started to wish she would.

He started to feel like they were just separate ships passing in the night. Or like Avery was a glorious, streamlined steamship and he was the distant coast, waiting endlessly for her to dock. They never seemed to be on the same page, or in the same place for very long. The damned dining table they sat at seemed to get longer every day until he had to strain to hear her say, between delicate bites of her grapefruit, that he shouldn't be eating all that bacon or drinking all that coffee. Down his end of the table, Jack stopped asking her about articles in the morning paper, stopped asking whether she'd heard of the latest merger or some brewing corporate scandal. He stopped asking simply because he always knew the answer. Avery moved in the same circles he did and heard exactly the same business gossip he heard everyday. Jack knew her opinion before even asking. Because her opinion was virtually the same as his, every single time. They'd always had similar views, which he used to interpret as a sign that they were perfect for one another. But he'd begun to notice that he could predict nearly every sentence that came out of Avery's perfectly proportioned mouth. He'd begun to feel that such easy congruity was not so ideal. It left very little to talk about and left Jack feeling just a little bored with his new wife.

Beneath the surface, he began to long for other things, things he'd experienced with prior lovers. He began to romanticise those past relationships. He longed for a warm body to wake up to. He longed for the comfort of talking in hushed voices with his bed partner at the end of each day, laughing about the day's events as their bodies both slowed down to sleep. Avery never slowed down or stopped, and seemed to resent him if he did. And that mean laugh he'd fallen for began to occur less and less. Jack started to feel like he was in an incarnation of his first marriage. Every night that they weren't work, and sometimes even after work, there was a gala to attend, an opening to enhance, a dinner to grace. Every weekend was some fabulous event they needed to attend where they would preen and circulate, posing as the perfect couple. Those were good times though, some of their best. He and Avery performed well together. They presented a united front, an impeccable image, complete with perfectly timed banter and perfectly matched smiles. Jack always carried a photo of Johnny with him so he could whip it out at such gatherings to show everyone just how great they had it. Sometimes he even found himself believing in their act, smiling fondly at his wife and thinking that they really did have it all.

The photo he carried with him had been taken by Lemon who'd been a great help whenever Joseph was unavailable. Avery would often drop Johnny off at her office where Liz had a whole corner set up as his play area. Which he rarely stayed in, preferring to wreak havoc on the writer's room and the writers in it. He seemed particularly enamoured of Frank who was bewildered by the child's curious affection. Liz had a theory that it was because he looked like a much hairier version of Mr Potato Head. After _TGS_ was suddenly cancelled mid-season, Liz became even more available and more willing to help whilst distracting herself from work woes. Avery's stock had begun to soar, her schedule packed with appearances and meetings and interviews and photo shoots. So during that time, Jack often came home to find Lemon happily babysitting his son, both of them covered in food and slobber and smiles. She took him for walks, read him books, gave him baths, changed his dirty diapers, crawled around on the floor with him and was present to see Johnny take his first steps towards his father before falling on his butt and crying. Jack watched as she swept him up and covered him in kisses, the tears quickly disappearing. Shortly after, Johnny said his first word. Dad. His second word was Liz. Or close enough to it. This put an abrupt end to their playdates. Especially after Avery witnessed how fiercely Johnny cried and objected to being taken from Lemon's arms and held in his mother's.

This was when Jack's wife decided it was time they finally took their long-awaited honeymoon. Without any helpers. They both took two weeks off work as soon as they could manage and went to Europe. The first week was rocky with a teething baby who was suddenly separated from the only two people who had given him constant affection and a sense of security. Luckily, Jack had been paying attention. He'd noticed the way Joseph would feed Johnny from the bottle and cover his baby bottom in balm with each nappy change. He'd watched how Lemon would distract him with toys as she slipped his clothes on, a task that she made look far easier than it was when dealing with a tiny, squirming, uncooperative body. He'd asked Joseph before they left when to let him sleep and when to wake him up and he remembered the songs Lemon crooned to him when he was tired and cranky.

Johnny adjusted in no time. So did Avery. She began to enjoy being a mom. She began to slow down. And Jack began to relax. He didn't know he'd been so tense, how much he'd needed a holiday. They made love a few times, in between sightseeing and being parents. And for the first time since they'd met, Jack got to wake up with his wife, feel her warm, relaxed body against his, run his hands over her curves, smell her hair and her morning breath and mutter sexy nothings in her ear. Before the baby interrupted them. Which was their cue that the day had began. That was when they got up and had breakfast. Although one morning, Jack just brought Johnny into bed with them. He couldn't believe how happy he felt that morning. It was like the happy family picture he'd dreamt of as a child had come true. It was like some fantasy, one they had been telling the world they lived. And now they were really living it. They were finally where he'd always wanted them to be, always thought they could be. And everything would be better when they returned, he was certain of it. It would be perfect from now on. This holiday would be the making of them. One of many happy family trips to come. At last, they were on the same page.

Two days after they returned, Avery told him she wanted a divorce. She didn't give him much of an explanation. She said she'd tried. She said their trip had been the last chance, their final opportunity to work it out, start afresh. And she'd wanted it to work, she really did. But it wasn't going to. She looked at him like he was insane when he said how perfect things had been between them from the start, that they could still have that perfection every day. Avery shook her head and told him that life was never perfection. Life was not a holiday. Love was not a fantasy. They had never been perfect and he was deluding himself if that's what he was trying to capture. She told him she'd never wanted this life for herself. Maybe she'd thought she had. But she hadn't been ready to become a wife and a mother all at once. And it was so different to what she'd imagined, so much more difficult than she'd anticipated. It was simply not for her. At least, not now. Not with him. Her career was her passion, her colleagues her family. And that's the way she wanted it, it's the way it had to be at this stage in her life. She still had time to have a family, if she chose to. But the opportunities she was getting in her professional life would not come around again. She would never forgive herself, after all her hard work and sacrifice, if she didn't give it everything she had. And she couldn't do that with a husband and a baby to care for.

Jack tried to convince her otherwise. Over the next few weeks, he tried charming her, wooing her back into adoring him. He sent her flowers and presents and love letters, he left long husky voicemails on her phone. The last time they spoke before the divorce was in her studio, between set-ups for the promos she was busy shooting. Since she wouldn't return his calls or give him any response, he ambushed her. It was a last ditch effort to salvage what he already sensed could not be salvaged. But he had to try. For himself and for his young son, he tried. Avery was immoveable. She looked at him with pity, told him he should have custody of Johnny and she would visit when she could. Then she went back to work, her eyes moist with tears she would not allow to fall. The makeup lady dabbed at her face a few times as Avery took her seat behind her desk, under the bright lights and in front of the camera. And like magic, the tears were gone. Vanished before his eyes in a single moment. As was his wife and the life Jack had dreamt of.

Jack did claim custody of Johnny in the divorce, becoming a single, working dad. The sort that rushed home at the end of each day to kiss his son before he went to sleep. He kept Joseph on as his child-rearing wingman, wanting to give his son as much stability as possible. And Lemon, having set herself up as a freelance writer of pithy magazine articles and short comic tales, helped out a lot. She took special delight in feeding Johnny - or more accurately, having various meals flung at her, at last having a good reason to be covered in bits of food, which she did not mind picking off herself and nibbling on. Her presence also saved Jack from feeling lonely and too sorry for himself. But not all the time.

At night when his son was asleep and everyone else had gone home, Jack sat alone and pondered his fate. Sometimes he still watched Avery's show, either attempting to recall the good times they'd had or seeking to mentally unravel where it all went wrong. He wondered if it could have been different, if they could have done better, tried harder, lasted longer. Or whether they were ridiculous to have even tried. He wondered whether, being so like Avery himself, he should have known better than to try to tether her to a life he too would've wanted to be free of at her age. Especially when he could see so clearly that where she was most alive and most happy was in front of that camera. Sometimes he would pull out his old yearbook, staring at the black and white photo of a teenage Nancy Donovan with a freckly nose and gleaming rows of white teeth. On those nights, Jack had a few too many drinks and wondered whether he had married the right woman in the first place. And whether, given a second chance, he might do it all differently.

_TBC..._


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Three Paths of Jack Donaghy

Author: Mindy

Rating: T, sexual references

Disclaimer: Please see first chapter

Spoilers: Up until and including "I Do Do".

Pairings: Jack/Avery, Jack/Nancy, Jack/Liz, Liz/Carol

Summary: He'll always wonder about that unopened door.

II.

_And all my friends are saying it's not right_

_I want to sleep beside you every night_

_Is this how love's supposed to feel?_

_Is this how love's supposed to feel?_

Their wedding day was the happiest day of his life. They married in the small stone church they both attended growing up. Colleen was present, sat a comfortable distance from Milton, also in attendance. As were Nancy's parents and children and a select few of their old school friends, all middle-aged and pudgy. It was a typical, dignified Catholic ceremony, complete with pious hymns and underlying guilt. The ceremony was followed by an outdoor reception at a picturesque local Inn. Danny sang _Danny Boy_ as the bride and groom entered and all the Irish at heart glowed as they looked on, joining in the song and waving their drinks in the air. A ruckus that made Lemon's subsequent toast to the newly wed couple virtually inaudible.

After this there was dinner and dancing. Jack and his new bride who looked radiant in white, danced every dance, under the stars, surrounded by friends and family. They swapped partners every so often but always returned to each other, laughing and kissing and whispering in each other's ears their eternal devotion. After everything that had happened, after all his indecision and anguish, Jack couldn't have been happier. Although, it might have been nice if the bride was conscious for the wedding night. Unfortunately, as soon as Nancy's head hit pillow, the champagne she'd ingested hit her and she was out like a light. She more than made it up to him the following morning though and Jack finally got to experience that extra fifty percent she'd been teasing him about.

After honeymooning in Scotland and Ireland, Nancy moved into Jack's New York apartment, settling in while he returned to work. She dabbled with the idea of launching her own cosmetics line, which Jack offered to finance. But she was discouraged by the scope of the market she was now in. So instead, as the new Mrs Jack Donaghy, she got involved in the popular charities, befriending some of the other executive's wives. They were a hard group to penetrate though, she told him one evening, if a woman didn't know the right restaurants or wasn't aware of the newest hotspot or didn't wear the latest labels. Most of the time, when Jack came home from work, Nancy was reading a book on the sofa or writing an email to one of her sons. She always stopped what she was doing when he walked through the door. She always smiled brightly, putting her arms around his neck as she asked him about his day, called him her man and kissed his lips. Jack had never had a woman wait for him. He'd never been with anyone whose life revolved around him. He liked it. For awhile at least, he rather enjoyed being the centre of someone's universe. It was gratifying, assuring. And it certainly appealed to his more conventional tendencies.

But he began to worry for his wife when he was at work. He began to think about what she was doing with her days while he was taking meetings and returning phone calls and negotiating big deals. He began to feel guilty every time he walked through the door to find her alone, waiting for him, so pleased to see him. He felt guiltier with every minute he was delayed at work and every night he was late home, which was most. He shared this concern with Lemon who offered to go out with Nancy. They started going out regularly, either for a meal or a movie or both. The two seemed to get on tremendously which relieved Jack. But it wasn't a full solution. Liz's only other suggestion was that Jack arrange for her sons to visit. Which he did. A surprise for her birthday. It was difficult to organize since both her sons loathed and resented him, somehow believing that he had contributed to the disintegration of their parent's marriage and eventual divorce. But they came. For their mother. And Nancy was thrilled. Jack gave them all a little space, deliberately excluding himself due to her children's distinct hostility. Something he tried to overcome with polite small talk and expensive gifts. Nancy told him it would simply take time for them to accept her new life with him.

Jack went all out for her birthday party which was a surprise for Nancy. And as his wife did not have many friends in New York, Jack just shipped some in. He paid for some of her best friends from Boston to join them, he put her parents up in a lavish apartment at the Plaza. And filled out the gathering with some of his own friends. Lemon was enlisted to get her out of the apartment while everything was set up. And everyone was in place by the time the guest of honor came through the door with Liz and Carol who'd given nothing away. Pete and Paula were there and Jenna with a conventionally-clad Paul at her side. Some of the executives and their charitable wives came to see who was wearing what and how much had been paid for the shrimp, which was, of course, the finest available. All in all, Nancy's party was a huge success. The birthday girl was showered with love and presents and spent most of the time clutching one of her sons' arms or kissing her new husband's cheeks, scolding him for being so secretive and extravagant.

For awhile after this, Nancy seemed relatively happy. But eventually, very gradually, she fell into a mild depression. She seemed to have less energy, less to say and smile about. She wrote to her sons less, read less, went out less, even with Liz. Generally when Jack came home from work, she was on the sofa watching television and didn't get up to greet him. She gained some weight during this period, not much but enough to upset her since, excluding her pregnancies, she hadn't gained a single pound since high school. Whenever Jack suggested it though, she had endless excuses not to go to the gym or buy new clothes for herself and seemed offended by his efforts to help her. They rarely had sex and if they did, Nancy didn't initiate it and she didn't always climax. Once, she cried afterwards but couldn't explain to him why. Sometimes when Jack woke in the middle of the night, she wouldn't even be in bed. It was only later that he would realize that was when the drinking started.

At home, she was able to hide it easily. But when they went out, it was obvious to everyone, including Jack, that Nancy was developing a problem. Or maybe she'd already had one. He didn't know. All he knew was as she downed drink after drink, she became more boisterous and inappropriate and sloppy. Jack didn't miss the sly looks cast their way by the socialites he used to bed in his old life. He didn't miss the worried whispers or pitying glances his colleagues offered as he whisked his stumbling, mumbling wife away from each important event. He was ashamed to admit, even to himself, that on such occasions he was deeply embarrassed by her. And not just by her drinking or her bad behavior. But by her lack of style and education, her silly, broad accent and loud, indiscreet mouth. So much so that a few times Jack took Lemon to corporate dinners instead, just to save himself the mortification and inevitable drama. Sometimes he would lie to Nancy, saying she'd be bored and he would attend alone. Then he would lie to Liz, saying his wife was indisposed. Jack always waited to be caught in his lie. But he never was. Sometimes he didn't lie at all. He simply told Nancy that he was taking Lemon for the betterment of her career. And his nights with Liz were as gloriously uncomplicated and enjoyable as he remembered them to be. She generally donned a simple black dress and heels, having years ago established a uniform for when he took her to such things. Once seated, she would make a sly crack about the food, several cracks about the inhabitants of the next table over then a few more about Jack himself. And with that she would effortlessly and unintentionally win over every last one of his stuffy associates before the first course had even arrived.

Of course his and Nancy's issues ultimately had to come out, and they did after a one such black tie event. He couldn't take Liz as she was already attending with Carol and Nancy desperately needed to get out of the apartment and into society. But throughout the night, Jack watched as she got more and more clingy, drinking too much too fast and talking too loudly about things she didn't know anything about. Afterwards, in an awful, volatile argument, she accused him of all of it. Of being ashamed of her, of regretting marrying her, of preferring his friend to her. She told him she could see it in his eyes. And after being pushed and pushed, Jack admitted it. She was a mess, a disgrace, he said, going on to add that she should get her own life and stop relying on him to make her happy and carry the weight of their marriage. The night rapidly deteriorated from there. Things were thrown and not just insults. Nancy was drunk so she had an excuse. But Jack had none and he knew it.

That's how they ended up in couples counselling after barely a year of marriage. Nancy had private sessions twice a week and they never missed their weekly sessions with an imperious lady called Marsha. Each at three-fifty a pop. They talked in detail about their sex life and past marriages and relationships. All of which took quite awhile for Jack to cover as Nancy's eyes grew wider and wider. They went over how he'd been seeing someone else at the time they consummated their relationship and how that affected the trust in their current relationship. Jack relayed to Marsha how he'd come rushing after Nancy following Avery's miscarriage, how he'd proposed on her doorstep and she'd impulsively accepted. After hearing this, Marsha asked Jack why they'd felt the need to jump so swiftly from being friends to being lovers and then from lovers to being married. Jack flashed her a smile and replied that he was an expert at whirlwind romances.

Marsha seemed particularly interested to explore Jack's parental relationships, setting him homework to expunge lingering feelings towards his absentee father and overbearing mother. He did it in bed each night before sleeping, speaking falteringly about past events while Nancy patted his hand and listened patiently. He tried to read all the books she bought for him about connecting to his inner child and finding inner peace. But he didn't know if it was working, or if it ever would. It seemed to be working for Nancy. During these sessions, she cried a lot, confessing more than he did in their now regular church visits. Jack started hearing things about her previous marriage that he'd never known, things that astonished him, things that occasionally, when she'd had a few too many, came out in their clashes. Sometimes in the heat of the moment, she would accuse him of things he'd never said or done and once she even called him Mark.

Marsha suggested they separate temporarily. Advice they both greeted with wary relief. The therapy they'd hoped would bring them closer had only served to emphasise the chasm that had always existed between them. Between who they were before and who they were currently. Between who they were in reality and who they'd wanted each other to be. And between the two separate lives they'd chosen for themselves, many years before. When he told Lemon this news, she just frowned at him. Even when he told her their separation was on the advice of a qualified and highly respected doctor. She still just frowned at him. It was a trial, he'd explained, so that they could get their heads together and forgive the people in their pasts. So that when they came back together, they could start right back at the beginning. They could get to re-know each other before building a whole new marriage and future for themselves. Nancy would go home for awhile to be with her family and support network. She would attend regular AA meetings and write in her gratitude journal. Jack would continue his homework, continue trying to locate his inner child. He would go to church once a week and be absolutely faithful to his wife while she was away.

At least, that was the plan.

Nancy never returned. She stayed in Boston. She kicked her habit. She got a job. Reconnected with her friends. And years later, Jack found out that she'd reconciled with and remarried her husband. In the meantime, they arranged their divorce over Skype. The process was swift and clean and amicable. And the last time they spoke, he and Nancy both apologized to each other for their various mistakes, starting with the decision to get married in the first place. For his part, Jack was relieved and happy, if bittersweetly so, to see something of the old Nancy returned. The light was back in her eyes, the life was back in her life, and he deeply regretted being the one to rob her of that, even for short time.

They didn't stay in touch. After the divorce papers were filed, they wished each other the luck and said goodbye. The night his divorce was final, Lemon came over to his apartment to drink with him. Or rather, he drank while she tried to cheer him up. Towards the end of the evening he kissed her. Or tried to. He didn't get very far. Again, Liz just frowned at him. Then invoked Carol's name, who she swiftly returned home to, leaving Jack alone and melancholy.

After she left, he watched some television, stumbling across Avery chatting spiritedly with some columnist who could not keep up with her. Jack watched the rest of the show, looking at her hair and cleavage and wrists. He listened to her voice and tried to remember what she smelled like, what it was like to look into her eyes or hold her hand or be naked in bed with her. But all his memories of Avery were irretrievably entangled with his guilty memories of Nancy. He couldn't even remember why he'd run when he had, why he'd left such a glorious, gorgeous woman behind at the first opportunity he'd gotten. He had no answer to that question, or to the many others that swirled around his brain in the ensuing lonely evenings. Possibly he never would have those answers. So on such nights, Jack just had another drink and wondered whether he'd married the right woman in the first place. And whether, given another chance, he might do it all differently.

_TBC..._


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The Three Paths of Jack Donaghy

Author: Mindy

Rating: T, sexual references

Please see first chapter for rest.

III.

_Your love got big, your jokes got worse each afternoon_

_Like bacon at a barmitzvah, like a lead balloon_

_And who's to say what really happened in that room_

_Each day I was looking for a bride, you were looking for a groom._

_So for once in our lives we saw what we wanted and took a bite_

_We picked the fruit from the tree and it was ripe._

Their wedding day was one of the happiest days of their life together.

After the whole Avery vs Nancy debacle came to a natural conclusion, Jack swore off love, swore off dating and most drastically, he swore off sex. Lemon was insultingly sceptical of his resolve. But for once, he kept his vow. Prompting this unshakeable resolve was Avery's admission that the baby she was carrying had merely been a figment of her hormonal imagination. Her once-a-year period had made her irrational, she'd explained to him, territorial, insane. She'd wanted to secure his affections, secure their future. Initially, Jack was rather flattered by her ruthlessness in pursuing him. And as they had both made major mistakes - and as Nancy had already returned to Boston – he and Avery embarked on a fresh start. A new, honest, committed relationship. It lasted all of two weeks. Removing the drama, that excruciating equivocation, from their relationship had killed its appeal. Yet, it also left Jack longing for a love that was more simple. Love that was drama-free and completely honest from the beginning. Frankly, the whole experience had left him disillusioned and disorientated. Which was why he decided to take himself off the market. At least until he found something that was worth risking everything for.

It was during this time that an excited Lemon had hooked up with Carol on a semi-serious basis. She'd started telling Jack about her new relationship, started referring to her pilot man as "boyfriend", started informing Jack of when he was flying in or out of New York City. Not that Jack was paying very much attention in the aftermath of his break-up with Nancy, and then Avery. After which there was the daunting reality of his new sexless, lonely existence to deal with. Fortunately, Lemon did prove to be an amusing distraction at such times. She had a way of making him talk even when he didn't want to, of making him laugh even when he didn't feel like it, making him participate in life without realizing that's what they were doing.

At some juncture in the last year or so, he wasn't sure when or why, they'd started growing steadily apart. He only really saw it in retrospect. In the few years they'd known each other, they'd become so close. Perhaps too close, too familiar. Perhaps that was why one or both of them felt the instinctive need to step back, to seek that intimacy elsewhere, to place distance where none was formerly necessary. Jack had to wonder whether it was he who was guilty of instigating this pulling-back process, without being aware of doing so. And whether Lemon had just fallen into step. But whatever had occurred in the recent past, however far he and Lemon had drifted in separate directions, by their own volition or not, when they came back together, it was quickly and easily. They'd navigated the territory before, dancing around each other for the first year of their acquaintance. There was no need to build trust or establish a rapport. All that was already there. It was more like a rediscovery. A fun realization that their particular thing - whatever it was - had always been there. All they needed to do was remember the timing. The stranger thing was that as that old, odd spark returned to their friendship, Jack felt something else accompany it. Something that may always have been present but never as strong. Something he'd never been able to properly identify or perhaps hadn't wanted to. And with their swift reconnection, it flared back to life, bigger and brighter and more palpable than ever.

It was as they were both settling back into this new, old intimacy and as Jack was starting to see Liz Lemon in a new light that she came to him one morning and told him she was leaving. Leaving TGS, leaving New York, leaving him. Up until then Liz's relationship with Carol had not encroached upon their friendship. Her boyfriend was in and out of town so frequently that Jack often felt he was still the most important and consistent man in her life. Which was how he had always preferred it. They'd discussed her relationship of course. But it always remained on the outskirts of his awareness. He was the one who supported, encouraged and advised her. Carol just blew into town and had quick sex with her before falling asleep. Sometimes he just crashed in her bed while she watched TV. Then they would have a few days to catch up, get food into the kitchen and eat it all while watching the programs she'd TiVOed for him. Then he was off again. It suited Lemon, who preferred infrequent intercourse, synchronized binge eating and plenty of alone time. Especially since the bulk of her hours were spent at work. But when Carol was transferred to California, she was determined not to make the same mistake she'd made with Floyd.

Jack was gutted by her decision. Though he did his best not to show his true reaction. He made himself respond with breezy indifference and false encouragement. Not that Liz totally bought his act. He didn't buy it himself and could hardly expect her to, considering how close they'd grown. Still, he kept up the pretence until he found out the real reason she was following Carol. She was pregnant. Barely. And accidentally. But ecstatic. And pregnant. Lemon. Liz. With child. And that changed everything. With one word, Jack's world tilted slightly. The instant he found out, he started viewing her differently. He started looking at her body, imaging it swelling with a blonde, blue-eyed baby wearing a tiny pilot's hat. He imagined her holding this baby, rocking it, smiling at it, singing to it, with Carol at her side, all of them tanned from the California sun. He imagined her with blonding hair, wearing contact lenses and colourful muumuus, surrounded by little airline brats. Jack started guiding her off elevators, opening doors for her and taking junk food out of her hands before she could bite into it. Liz told him to cut it out. She didn't want anyone to know until she was further along. She hadn't even told her chronically absent boyfriend yet.

Carol was out of town when she lost the baby. He was in the air, somewhere over Arkansas when Liz miscarried at eight weeks. She called Jack. He took her home from the hospital, silently followed her into her apartment, waited for her to stop babbling and start crying. Which she did. He'd never actually seen Lemon cry. Not really, truly cry. In fact, he'd never seen anyone cry like she cried that night. Sobbing like a child, soaking his shirt, fisting his clothes in white-knuckled hands. He rocked her. He held her. And when she'd cried herself into a miserable semi-slumber, Jack reclined them on the sofa and let her rest against him. Her grip loosened, her breath calmed. They stayed like that for nearly an hour before Jack rose and carried her to her bed.

Two weeks later, Liz broke up with Carol. She told Jack the reality didn't compare to the fantasy. She said she wanted a real life with someone, not half a life. Jack waited another two weeks. Then he took his chance. Late one night, he went down to her office, stood in the doorway until she looked up. And when she did, he told her to grab her coat and come with him. He took her up to the deserted, darkened Observation Deck that overlooked the glittering city. And that's where he kissed her, both hands cupping her wind-chilled face as her knees quite literally went weak. Jack knew that night that he wanted to marry Lemon. But he waited until much later to ask her.

They started talking about marriage fairly early into their new relationship. Like everything between him and Liz, it just happened naturally. They already knew what each other wanted, they both guessed that's where they were headed. Mostly, they discussed it in bed at the end of the day with the TV mumbling in the background. It had become Jack's favorite part of the day. The hour before they went to sleep. They'd watch the news, disparage each other's political leanings. Lemon might test on him a few lines of a sketch she was working on, Jack might tell her about his newest business venture. Sometimes they'd make love. Or have hot, quick sex. Sometimes he was content with the way Liz snuggled up to his side under the warm covers. Sometimes he would mute the television just to listen to her breath, her light snoring. Something about it made his heart expand.

Jack was surprised by how much he liked spending time at Liz's place, how instantly comfortable he was there. It was smaller and much messier. But there were certain advantages. Everything was much closer at hand, including his woman. The atmosphere was warmer and cozier, the food was better. And there was no need to worry about pesky servants interrupting if they wanted to make love on the sofa or on the kitchen counter or against the front door. Which they did. Frequently. As well as making love in more traditional places like the bed and, his personal favorite, the shower. So when it came time to discuss living arrangements, the conclusion was easy and obvious. He no longer needed a sophisticated bachelor pad. He no longer needed all those floors to lose himself in. He wanted a home. He wanted a family, something to come home to. So they would renovate and decorate the two unfinished apartments Liz had purchased. Together they could make them into the home they both longed for and could both be comfortable in. It took a long while for Jack's place to sell, one floor at a time. But once they did, he put most of the proceeds into a trust fund for their offspring. A smaller slice purchased Liz's wedding present.

Whenever they talked about marriage, it was all very practical and non-romantic. It was generally about the whens and whos and hows. They were all set on the whys. On the whys, they were good, on both sides. Often Liz would end their discussion by shrugging and yawning and saying she didn't care about the actual wedding. She just wanted to be married. Jack added the "to you" in his head because he knew that's what she meant. Having been married once already and engaged a number of times though, he was rather wary of her relaxed attitude regarding their prospective nuptials. Every woman had a vision for her wedding. Even the unconventional type like Lemon. As far as he was aware, every single woman wanted something special on her wedding day, even if she wasn't aware of what it was. She would know it – as would her groom – if she didn't get it. So he was surprised when Liz decided to put her ham napkin up for auction online. She said it was no big deal, she said that it reminded her of how desperate she'd been. She said she'd bought it for the wrong reasons, she'd had an unrealistic fantasy about marriage and weddings. Jack told her that fantasies were not so terrible, at least, not if they only lasted a day. He would be happy to give her the fantasy. If it was what she wanted. But Liz insisted the dress was symbolic of…something. They watched the price climb higher and higher on her dress until eventually, it sold.

With the money from her ham napkin, Liz bought tins of paint and started painting the upstairs bedrooms. Or what would become the upstairs bedrooms. During the show's hiatus she went on renovation frenzy. She wouldn't consider setting a date until the apartment was complete. But when he came home one afternoon, finding her up a ladder, food wrappers strewn over the old-sheet-covered floor and paint flecks covering her hair and face and clothes, Jack couldn't help himself. He couldn't hold it in. He said the words. "Let's get married." Liz snorted and told him she was a bit busy right then. Jack went over to the ladder, telling her he didn't care about having a big fancy wedding either. He just wanted her. He wanted her as his. He wanted a life with her. He loved her and would she marry him the very next weekend at City Hall. Liz smiled at him and came down a few steps. She said yes three times then kissed him. Then Jack took her to the shower where he washed the paint off her, kissed her wet body all over and made her cry out when he moved inside her.

The morning of their wedding Jack woke with one of her legs twisted round his and her dishevelled head wedged in his armpit. Liz woke with his head under her t-shirt and his lips closing around one nipple. Despite telling him they didn't have time for their usual round of morning making-out, she arched into him and allowed him to continue. Despite the fact that Jack was due to pick up her parents in less than an hour, she lifted her legs and let him take his time going down on her. And despite the fact that they had somewhere pretty pressing to be that day, she climbed on top of him, sank down on him then kissed him before they both began to move. Liz was still in her pjs when he left to go collect her parents. He kissed her goodbye at the door and told her he'd see her at City Hall.

Of course, they weren't going to get married at City Hall. Jack had other plans. By the time Liz arrived at City Hall with Jenna, there was a white car waiting at the curb. With a secretive grin, Jenna ushered her in and the car took them straight to Rockefeller Center. Befuddled, Liz was led into Jenna's dressing room where her ham napkin was waiting for her. Cerie had had the dress taken up at the hem and had chosen shoes in her size. Jenna had chosen the underwear, which Liz flatly refused to wear. Cerie and Jenna had also arranged for their own bridesmaid dresses, both in the same style but Jenna in red and Cerie in yellow. Jenna also enlisted a fabulous stylist friend to do Liz's makeup and hair. While she was having her hair pulled into a loose, low bun, her wedding bouquet arrived. It was small, simple, stylish, made with red and yellow and white roses. Red for love, yellow for friendship, white for marriage. Tucked inside was a note from Jack: _The last lie I'll ever tell. Promise. Meet me on the roof in ten._

It took a little longer than ten minutes but Liz met him on top of The Rock where all their friends and family were gathered and the sun was high in the sky and the iron balustrades had been draped in white. They were married on the same spot where they first kissed, by Milton, who apparently was authorized to oversee such occasions. Jack had prepared his own vows while Frank and Pete had collaborated on something for Liz just in case she was lost for words. Halfway through reading these though, she scrunched up the piece of paper and threw it at Frank's face, opting to go solo. She did alright for someone put on the spot. But then words were her living and Jack could hardly expect perfect eloquence from someone who hadn't known of her own wedding plans. After they were declared husband and wife, there were drinks and hugs as Liz caught up with everyone she didn't know would be in attendance. Jenna sang every love song in her repetoir, her mother joining her for a few of them. And despite the sickening soundtrack, Jack couldn't stop looking at, smiling at, touching his new wife who didn't seem to mind his little deception at all.

Liz's wedding present was a little place in the Berkshires, which was where they retired to after a lavish lunch. Jack had furnished the place with a massive four-posted bed, a heavy, hardwood writing desk and the best television money could buy. For two weeks, they (he) cooked, they watched movies, read the paper (Jack the business and sports sections, Liz the arts and kiddy sections) and made excellent use of the hardy, broad, soft bed. It was where they spent the majority of their honeymoon. Until a phone call late one morning brought them back to reality and back to New York. All this time, Liz's adoption applications had been circulating the various agencies, mostly gathering nothing but dust. She'd long since given up hope of a real response. But some kind soul had seen her wedding announcement in the paper and wondered whether the new couple might wish to adopt a 6-month-old called Joy who needed a loving home urgently. There would be extra paperwork due to her changed circumstances and they could have some time to think about it. But if they wished, the baby could be theirs in a little over three weeks. After Liz got off the phone with the agency, they thought about it all afternoon. They talked through every aspect of the decision. But in the end, they both agreed that there was no decision to make. The answer was obvious.

The next morning they returned to the city to get the apartment ready. The second bedroom room was painted but empty. They bought a cot and change table and toys and clothes and everything else they might need. They moved their bedroom upstairs, next to the baby's and baby-proofed the entire place. They filled out endless forms and passed each home inspection and after three weeks of nervous waiting and hasty preparation, they went to meet their new daughter. From that day onward, they were parents. Their lives were filled with warm bottles and nap times and walks in the park and proud photographs. And vomit and poop and insomnia. Liz took an indefinite leave of absence from work to spend time with Joy, to bond with her, make her feel safe and secure. And Jack came home early every chance he could get, walking into his half-finished apartment to find his new, instant family. For him and his baby daughter, it was love at first sight. He'd never been so infatuated with any being ever. And she seemed to return his unswerving devotion. Every weekend revolved around Joy, who lived up to her name, growing bouncy, healthy dark curls and cultivating a high, peeling giggle that was mostly reserved for whenever one of her parents did something even mildly amusing. She was a good-tempered, curious baby who took to her new family as if she'd adopted them, as much as the other way around.

For Jack, the balance was perfect. He liked going to work as much as always and could never wait to get home. Liz had been enough a part of his professional life that she understood any work problems he brought home. But she also knew when to crack a joke and tell him to lighten up, let it go. Her irreverence allowed him to laugh at what he often took far too seriously. And when that didn't work, she'd simply plonk Joy in his lap to distract him, a tactic that always worked. He rather liked being the sole breadwinner too. Liz planned to return to writing at some point, when Joy was a little older. But she was also enjoying the role of mother, a privilege had been a long time coming. Jack had to admit he rather liked those more traditional roles. He liked the simplicity of their life together. He liked how everything had fallen into place purely because they were both so ready for it, so ripe for it. Not that everything was always perfect. They still fought. Or bickered, rather. They snapped at each other and got annoyed with each other and occasionally went to bed angry or frustrated. But it never lasted very long. That sort of friction had always fizzled quickly between them. And if their years of friendship had taught them anything, it was how to resolve those little disturbances with a few simple words. Only now they followed those words with make-up sex.

It was one highly enjoyable bout of make-up sex that Liz initiated after snapping at him about not emptying the dishwasher that resulted in her becoming pregnant. After her earlier miscarriage and its complications, and considering her "advancing maternal age", her doctor had informed her that her chances of a healthy pregnancy were very low. And getting lower by the day. So as soon as they were married they stopped using protection. Not that they were deliberately trying to get pregnant. But they certainly weren't against it happening. And it did happen. The doctor confirmed it. After which, they waited – slightly trepidatious – until the twelve-week mark to breathe a big sigh of relief and celebrate by spreading the news. Jack handed out cigars at work while Liz made calls to Colleen and Milton and her parents, all of whom were thrilled. She and Joy had already begun to pick out baby names. Boot was the prevailing favorite with Joy. She had started to talk, saying Mom-mom, Dada and Nana, which delighted Margaret Lemon but not Colleen so much. And as mommy's tummy grew bigger, Joy liked to point at it, pronouncing clearly and proudly: "Boot".

During her second trimester, Jack couldn't keep his hands of his wife. Joy had settled into an easy sleep routine, leaving them more time to enjoy each other's company. And Liz's libido had skyrocketed. She would often call him before he'd even arrived at the office, telling him to come home for an early "lunch". Sometimes Jack was getting "lunch" four times a day. And Liz was enjoying "lunch" more than she ever had before. She was obsessed with "lunch", morning, noon and night. While Jack just became obsessed by her growing belly and heaving breasts. He found her blooming body infinitely more erotic than he ever thought he would. Liz didn't mind. In fact, she found getting permissibly fat quite liberating. Sometimes during sex, carried away by uncontrollable arousal, she would take his big hands and place them on her body, put them wherever she wanted them then allow him to squeeze and stroke and explore to his hearts content.

All this physical activity, along with Jack's still thriving career and Liz's long days running after a giggling Joy left them exhausted by the end of each day. Exhausted in a good way, Liz would say before conking out beside him, tucked into his side. After she did, one arm around her, Jack would often scroll through the TV channels as Liz began to snore softly. He might catch some late breaking news or wait up to see Danny or Jenna or Tracy on one the many late night talk shows. Occasionally, he'd stumble across Avery's new show or a commercial for Nancy's organic cosmetics range. And it was like looking at another life, a past life in which he no longer fit. Oddly, there was never any feeling that accompanied seeing their faces or hearing their names. He felt no crippling regret or vast longing, there was no great love or loss. He didn't worry about that distant, unopened door. Because he was happy with the door he chose. He got it right. And he knew he got it right.

Jack never felt the need to wonder if he'd do it differently given the chance. But if he'd asked himself the question, he'd know the answer without doubt. He wouldn't. He wouldn't do a thing differently, wouldn't even want to. He wouldn't sacrifice a second of what he had for a lifetime of what he might have dreamt of. Because he was happy. He had the life he'd always wanted. It might not have looked exactly the way he'd thought it would. But sometimes, if a man was incredibly lucky, reality exceeded his highest expectations. It was with this thought that Jack usually shut off the television and turned out the light. Then each and every night he kissed his sleeping love on the forehead before falling into a deep, satisfied sleep.

_END._


End file.
